Thou Shalt Not
by Mairemor
Summary: Felipe de Castro orders Sookie to attend him in Las Vegas while Eric is ordered to New Orleans. What are his true intentions? Sex, Blood and Vengeance!
1. Chapter 1

Thou Shalt Not

**A/N**…When any story deals with victims, ordeals, and survival--even a fantasy touches reality. Unlike my grandparents, many, many of my relatives never escaped Poland. So I suppose this very unworthy effort becomes connected to a larger human issue--how do we survive the unthinkable, move forward, and reclaim ourselves.

As always, the SVM Characters are not mine. I only take them out to play. Although this story is dark, it is still dedicated to Meads who is all sweetness and light!

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Felipe de Castro sat at the head of the huge mahogany table, listening to yet another builder present proposals for the addition to his casino and renovation of the executive suites on the top two floors intended for his Vampire guests . Her laptop opened in front of her, Sookie Stackhouse sat to his left, her beautiful, blue eyes fixed attentively upon the speaker. She had twisted her long. thick blond hair into a chignon which rested elegantly at the base of her neck. His eyes swept over her briefly. The Versace sheath dress set off her magnificent body without revealing too much. But what it revealed was mouth watering. Her fingers fluttered over the keys and his eyes darted to the screen in a movement too fast for the contractor's human eye to discern, "Check his backer—mafia involvement!" before she quickly erased what she had written.

This evening and every evening for the past week, she had been invaluable, catching even a nuance of deception. He had studied her very carefully, had been aloof and charming, had made sure that she could call her man as often as she desired as he waited to spring his trap. Felipe inhaled her unique fragrance. He had ordered Eric to attend trade meetings in New Orleans this week. The Viking controlled his large territory well and was an excellent businessman and leader. But he had defied de Castro in the matter of this woman and Felipe de Castro neither forgot nor forgave defiance.

In the old days minions were flogged with cat o nine tails tipped with silver. De Castro watched the beauty next to him nod and smile at some closing pleasantry and thought that the flogging Northman was about to receive would be much, much worse. He rose from his chair and Sookie and his second Sandy rose a fraction of a second later. The human bowed awkwardly having been advised that this was the protocol.

Felipe smiled and allowed a bit of glamour to extend to the human "Well Mr. Marino. We appreciate your time and the thorough nature of your proposal. We'll look at the figures carefully and my assistant Sandy will get back to you by the end of the week."

It was almost midnight. If one wanted to meet with Felipe de Castro one had to keep late hours but this was the last of the night's business transactions.

After the contractor left, de Castro gave Sandy a nod and she bid them both good night. Sookie saved any undeleted information, closed her laptop, and placed it in the slim leather briefcase Eric had bought for her. When de Castro had requested her services for the week she had been alarmed and Eric had been visibly tense.

She could still hear Victor's jovial voice, "Come now old chap!" He turned eyes the color of worn dollar bills toward Sookie, "I'm sure that Miss Stackhouse wouldn't object to a paid vacation in one of America's premier resorts!" Victor was a hit man who sounded like a Travel Chanel host even when his intent was lethal. Besides, there was no getting around the fact that the King's request seemed legitimate. Sookie allowed her bonded and pledged to negotiate the terms. It wasn't until the day after she'd arrived that they both learned that Eric had been called to New Orleans. But ,again, the meetings had been suitably official and all of the other Louisiana Sheriffs were in attendance.

Before she'd left, Eric gave her a second cell phone with a different company and an alias. It was red, of course. They'd just gotten dressed after making love and showering.

Eric had taken her into his arms, and she had nestled into him taking in his scent and enjoying the cool brush of his lips.

"I've survived this long because my eyes are always open, my lover. I have watched Felipe very closely. He is ruthless , but he likes to play with his food before he strikes. Put this in the hidden briefcase compartment I showed you. It would be best to use it outside of the building. Use the other cell to call me on a regular basis where others can see and hear. Be sure to call me by two AM." His eyes became hard blue marbles, "If I don't hear from you, I'll take the next flight out!"

Despite their apprehensions, the week had gone well for both of them and Sookie had relaxed into the monotonous rhythm of negotiations from twilight until midnight, a break to socialize with the VIPs and then off to bed. Felipe had arranged for a very upbeat and knowledgeable guide named Debbie, to make sure that she saw all of the sights. Sookie knew that Debbie was probably her minder and that she reported their activities back to the king, but as the week progressed without incident she relaxed her guard. Although she wasn't a gambler, she'd enjoyed having VIP access to the casino during the day, and had especially enjoyed the shows, and the chance to luxuriate in the sun by one of the many pools.

When Felipe invited her into the reception area of his immense suite, she didn't give it a thought. After all, Felipe had entertained humans, vamps, and supes in there all week. There were always lots of people as well as the bartender and servers. She didn't trust Felipe, but she also had no reason to be ungracious. Felipe gave a little nod and extended his arm, "Miss Stackhouse?" She couldn't read his mind but as Felipe's whole demeanor generated affable goodwill, she smiled and took his arm, "Your Majesty."

When they arrived at the penthouse suite only two guests were waiting, a vampire who went by the improbable name of Armand Le Febre who had invested heavily in deCastro's Las Vegas enterprises, and his human girlfriend, Leslie. After greeting the vampire, Sookie and Leslie ,who made sure Sookie knew that she was a former ballerina with the Houston Ballet Company, went out on the spacious balcony. The panoramic view of the lights of Las Vegas and the darkness of the desert that framed it was spectacular. Leslie, a pretty brunette, in her mid twenties gushed about how wonderful Armand was. Sookie smiled and made polite noises, while wondering whether Armand's real name was Bruce or Dennis. He was a strapping fellow and had obviously been turned sometime in the last century on this continent'

"_Teeth, too straight, nutrition too good, accent mid-west…probably read Anne Rice…"_

A server brought her a gin and tonic while Leslie had her forth wine spritzer and gushed like a fountain about the wonders of Armand until he ,blessedly, called her in and they said their good nights. Sookie leaned against the balcony, gin and tonic in hand, enjoying the view and the solitude. Playing hostess had not been part of her her job description and if Felipe didn't require her, she was quite happy to stay where she was. She spent a good fifteen minutes enjoying how the lights seemed to sparkle after her second G & T, when she felt a cool hand trail across the base of her neck and onto her shoulder.

Felipe's lips brushed the nape of her neck as he pulled her back against him,

"Querida," He whispered "At last we are alone."

He loved the supple feel of her against him as the fear took her—his greatest prize. These were the moments that made existence rich! He would never tire of this absolute thrill; the thrill of of that poignant moment when the prey knows ,without question, that it is in the grip of a predator it did not even know was stalking it. He felt her pulse quicken, nuzzled the throbbing evidence of her fear at the base of her neck. She was like the finest Arabian mare. All of the strongest stallions wanted her! Quinn, Eric, Alcide the Pack leader, even Bill so cool and loyal had fallen under her spell. She was beautiful, and other, brave and intelligent. Quinn had fought for her, Eric and his minion Bill would kill and die for her and now he knew that she had noble blood; sweet, rich Brigant blood flowed in those delectable veins. His fangs ran out in anticipation of all the pleasure that was to come. By the end of this night both she and Eric would understand the consequences of toying with their king.

Although she knew that it was futile, Sookie fought like a wildcat struggling and scratching. But Felipe's arms were bands of steel. He gripped her arms with his left hand, as she would have held a furious child's and very slowly unzipped her dress and unhooked her bra, sloughing them off in a motion so fast she couldn't apprehend it. Felipe continued to hold her fast from the back as he snapped the string of her lace panties and ran his hands over her buttocks and thighs. He growled as he brushed his hand over her mound, unfastened her hair so that it tumbled down her back and tuned her to face him.

Her fury inflamed him and he pressed against her making her feel his hardness as he placed her hand upon his cock.

With amazing strength Sookie freed her hand and raked his face with her nails , Felipe snarled and trapped her wrists again.

"Fight me again! It only inflames me more. You are sweet! Like no other woman I have tasted. What other treats will you give me tonight?"

Sookie could taste her own tears, could taste the bitter bile of her rage and fear and she knew that what she felt so powerfully Eric felt as well—as she was tortured so was he. Felipe held her at arm's length drinking her in like water in a desert.

Her voice was choked with rage, "You swore to protect me." She could barely spit it out, "I saved your life! I should have left you to die!"

Felipe's beautiful full lips curved into a smile. His gleaming fangs still showed traces of her blood as his beautiful dark eyes captured hers. "And I _will _protect you. You may be pledged to the Viking, but you will yield to me if you want Northman to live. He is s good sheriff but he is expendable and my retainers only wait for my signal to render him definitely dead!"

She could feel his will pressing against her attempting to probe her mind. And for an awful moment she thought that he might succeed. In that moment, she had a flash of Felipe's inner self . There was greed for all that he didn't possess but desired, lust for her, and a cold, remorseless will that was intent upon obtaining its goals by whatever means necessary. She shuddered knowing that Felipe would have her no matter how she struggled; he would bend his own pledge to make it so.

Her mouth tightened and her blue eyes blazed. "No! You can't rape me!"

Felipe chuckled and pulled her towards him. he captured her lower lip between his. He moaned as his fangs pricked her and shuddered as he sucked and licked her blood.

When he'd had his fill, he whispered , "Is it rape, when you soften beneath my tongue? Will it be rape when you gasp beneath me? When you grab my hand and thrust my fingers into you to find completion and cry out for more, will it be rape?'

"You are a goddess querida. " He brushed his thumb across her lips , dropped his hand and cupped her breast , squeezing her nipple, " What man could resist this…" His left hand held her wrists fast and his right hand dipped between her legs, found her clit and gently massaged.

Felipe lifted her as if she were a doll and carried her to his bedroom,

She survived Lochlan and Nieve but had emerged a darker more cynical soul, and she had let her guard down again only to be sucked to the mouth of Hell. The fighter inside of her knew that she must survive this night, but did she want to live after this…could she face Eric after this night…would he even want her…

Sookie knew that it was futile to fight de Castro. If she survived this night somehow Eric would be with her by tomorrow night and he would avenge her even if it took them to Hell's mouth again.'

Felipe carried her into his inner sanctum and pinned her beneath him

Rage made her voice as harsh as a raven's, "Eric will kill you for this! "

As he parted her thighs to enter her Felipe's voice was as cold and smooth as silk, "Oh, I fervently hope that he tries!"

***TO BE CONTINUED ...SO ERIC CAN KICK SOME ** !**


	2. Chapter 2

Thou Shalt Not Ch 2

Don't let the beauty blind your eyes

This world is filled with discolored lies

For greener fields don't sell your soul

You'll think you're rich with a pocket of fool's gold

_Black & White_ by Cherryholmes

A/N Ok, Ok…revenge is sweet and Eric's a'comin'! If you've read my stuff, you know I love Norse mythology and I try to not to fiddle too much with my sources.

Many thanks to Konfetti for helping work through a giant plot dilemma. xxxooo

Some notes: Svartálfaheimr is the land of the døkkálfar (the underground variety is called duergar), or the "Dark Elves" The døkkálfar in the nine worlds live mostly in a coniferous forest on the surface world. Niðavellir is comprised of an intricate series of tunnels and is the home of the Duergar (also dark elves), who are sensitive to light. I'm giving you the names because of Eric's prayer…so don't worry…no test involved! Dark elves have black hair and pale skin and are renowned craftsmen who create treasures for the æsir gods.

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Eric maintained a polite, mask as he listened to the representative for the liquor supplier discuss the cost of servicing and installing beer lines for Vampire owned bars and pubs across the state. From the moment that Felipe remarked that their blood bond was "interesting", before he had even claimed Sookie as his own, Eric had laid his plans.

Quietly, unobtrusively, he had cashed in on the many favors owed him across the nine worlds. If De Castro's actions brought another Fae war down upon his head, it would give them the time they needed to vanish swiftly and thoroughly. The problem with this plan was that De Castro would torture any vampire who owed him fealty and any human under his protection if he or she did not vanish just as thoroughly. Of course, De Castro would get nothing out of them—they knew nothing. But on the whole, it was not his way to abandon his underlings without first providing a means for their protection.

Over the past week he had noticed nothing untoward in the bland business transactions that seemed to be progressing smoothly in Louisiana and Nevada. Not once, had De Castro mentioned the topic of their pledge to Sookie. Not once had he brought up his very intense desire that Sookie relocate to Nevada immediately. De Castro's desire had kept Eric from Sookie's side when she was abducted and tortured, a fact that Eric would neither forget nor forgive. He had felt her calling to him across their bond, felt her horror, her pain, her need for him. De Castro had detained him long enough to keep him from rescuing her. Eric had barely controlled his fury when he reminded De Castro of his pledge. Only then had he had allowed Eric to contact Niall. And now, again, he might be too late.

Eric had been very busy assimilating into the new regime. Part of that activity involved studying De Castro's history and motivations.

He had learned that Felipe De Castro was intelligent, pragmatic, ruthless, and greedy. While Eric had was content with his status as sheriff, Felipe had the mindset of a Napoleon. Eric had been in Russia during that invasion, had met Napoleon during that bitter winter, and he recognized the personality.

De Castro, the deprived forth son of a Spanish don, would never be content until he had gobbled up as much power as he could. Eric had been powerless to prevent Sookie's presence without immediate and fatal repercussions, and her absence and the apparent calm clawed at his guts.

De Castro was a master of illusion, who thoroughly understood the adage that you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. Once caught, he would crush any fool who presumed to obstruct his will or slight his honor. Back in the sixties, he had crucified his ex lover and her current paramour because they had joked about De Castro with another King. The foolish girl had underestimated the claws beneath De Castro's velvet exterior, but Eric would _not_ make that mistake.

Eric had no doubt that the wolf was laying a trap. His greatest anxiety lay in rescuing his mate before it was sprung. Eric understood wolves very well; he was an Alpha wolf himself. He too knew how to act swiftly and ruthlessly.

De Castro came out of a Christian culture and was almost half a millennium younger than he. De Castro , the vampire, knew that other worlds existed, but his Renaissance trained mind refused to acknowledge the depth of their magic and he was blind to the old gods. Eric smiled grimly. He was glad that De Castro looked down upon his barbaric Nordic superstitions; in fact he was counting upon it.

At first, there had been some joking among the Sheriffs about Eric's chaste avoidance of the many whores who serviced the New Orleans vamps.

Eric had grinned, "My mate is far better and sweeter than any whore. Why eat junk food, when a feast awaits?"

Over the course of the week, they had accepted his routine of taking a "walk" then retiring to his room for his daytime rest. This was the last night of the conference. Tomorrow, the representatives from Anubis Air would collect his coffin and make the brief hop to Shreveport, where Bobby Burnham would do what was necessary.

He had made sure that his luggage was packed and that all of his affairs were in order before he left the building. The streets were still filled with tourists out for a night on the town. He walked at a human pace, turned several corners, and in ther midst of a huge crush of people outside of a popular night club, turned into a small allyway and vanished through a portal.

Someone had been trailing him, routine security after a takeover, but they would have nothing untoward to report as they would see him leave the nightclub and return to the hotel.

As soon as he entered the Otherworld, Eric touched his brow and whispered, "I honor the shadowed world of Svartalheim for the dark elves' gift of song and mystery, and the deep kingdom of Nidavellir, for the duergar's skill and craft."

A soft ripple of laughter welled out of the darkness and a dim light revealed two slight figures, one male and one female. The male's smile revealed white, sharpened teeth, before he morphed into Eric's doppelganger.

It was odd to hear his twin speak to him in his own voice.

" Well spoken Vampire! You honor your heritage and your gods by speaking thus. We hear and acknowledge and will not forget the courtesy. I leave now to take your place."

Eric watched his double pass through the portal, very glad that he had not forgotten the old ways.

In the last inter species war, Eric's former king had sided with the queen of the Dark Elves. When she had been wounded, Eric had sliced off the goblin king's head and skewered a fair number of his retinue. That was four centuries ago, but the dark queen had not forgotten and neither had Eric. As he stood in the glimmering light, he knew that the Dark Elves' queen would be pleased. After tonight, her debt would be erased and he would owe her quite a favor.

The pretty, petite female with short, shining black hair and skin nearly as pale as a vampire's, nodded at him. Beautiful, fern green eyes glowed slightly in the dim light.

Her nostrils flared as she inhaled Eric's scent , regarded him appreciatively, and nodded toward the portal.

" That Nalli is the best! He even managed to copy your scent, the clever boy! I'm Danni."

She grinned, displaying her own set of white, sharpened teeth.

"I'll be your guide and transportation through Niðavellir. Once we cross the void, it won't take long to get through the warded tunnels where we can't "poof". In the place the humans call Nevada, there are Old Ones who will aid us. The Vampire king defiled their sacred lands. Their fury is very great. "

Eric couldn't help grinning back. He'd always had a thing for these Dark Elf women—petite, pretty, passionate…all the right P's. But tonight his thoughts quickly returned to Sookie.

"My mate…"

Danni nodded, her pretty mouth a grim slash, "They're on the way. They'll get her out. "

Eric smiled. His fangs extended in full battle display, " De Castro will follow and the hawk will be caught in the ravens' claws !"

Danni grabbed his wrist, "Have you ever dematerialized before?"

Eric shook his head, "It was never necessary."

Danni licked her lips and grinned wickedly, " Then hold on ! I guarantee that you've never been on a ride like this one !"

And they poofed.

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Sookie lay beneath Felipe. She fought against his iron grasp, knowing that it was futile. She knew that it would probably arouse him, but she swore that she would not lie there passively and submit.

He was above her now, fangs fully extended. His scent surrounded her. She turned her head willing her mind elsewhere, away from this room and the further degradation of her body.

_My body's just a shell , nothing more. He can't get at the part of me that matters..._

The shell could be used and crushed, but her spirit, never!

She reached out to Eric across the bond, then pulled back, ashamed at what he might sense. Felipe caressed and squeezed her breasts. He moaned as his lovely full mouth fastened onto her nipple. He sighed as his fangs pierced her when he sucked.

Physically, he was a beautiful man. Many, many, maybe thousands and thousands of women had freely given themselves to him during his long existence. He was a consummate lover who had explored women's bodies and brought them to climax for five hundred years.

He growled softly as her felt her nipple harden under his tongue, then cupped the other and stroked, pinched and teased it with his tongue until it too was pebbled and hard.

Sookie thought of Eric, of how it was with him. She tried to picture him as Felipe trailed his hand down the smooth, soft skin of her stomach.

As he slipped his cool fingers into her, and began to move them in an ancient, gratifying rhythm, she squeezed her eyes shut and pictured rotting corpses, the stench of landfills, anything to not give in.

Felipe's mind pressed powerfully against hers, even as his manhood pressed and moved powerfully against her stomach. He lightly brushed the scar from the staking, ran his hand across the fine lacework where the Maenad had left her mark, and trailed his lips over the few small marks left from the Fae's torture.

The Viking's blood had healed her glorious body well. What a warrior she was! Even now when all other women would have submitted through the glamour, or through their own lust, she fought.

He was reveling in her beauty, the taste of the sunlight on her skin, the magnificence of her proud breasts under his lips, and the sweet rich taste of her blood. It was like the blood of no other woman! No wonder the Viking, who disdained human woman, prized her above all others and had claimed her as his mate.

Felipe trailed his fingers out her cleft , across her downy mound of tawny hair, and stroked her nub.

"Ah my beauty," he purred, "Your mind is very strong. But you body betrays you."

He licked her stomach as he moved down her body, parted her thighs, and whispered, "Let me see if I can convince that stubborn little mind to agree."

Felipe slipped both rock hard hands under her firm rounded buttocks as he thrust his cool tongue into the moist heart of her. Ah! She was so sweet. He could faintly smell the Viking's scent, but that would soon be erased. She was remarkably stubborn and lay like a corpse, even though he could hear and feel her heart race as her breath quickened.

Felipe thrust her buttocks up again plunging his tongue deep inside of her. He groaned aloud with each thrust, and smiled inwardly as his own arousal reached fever pitch.

What she felt, _everything_ she felt, the Viking would feel across the bond and he would know that he had been owned in every sense.

When he pulled out of her sweetness to suckle her nub, she was still fighting to resist, but her body had lost the battle. Sookie strained to roll away as he locked his arms about her waist, nuzzled her inner thigh and bit.

She sobbed, loathing herself and the ripple of pleasure she had felt at the hands of a man she despised and feared.

He was feeding hungrily from her moaning, "Dulce! Dulce!"

And then he was above her and inside of her, clutching the top of her head as he pounded harder and harder. The sounds and smell of sex permeated the air.

As he cried out, shuddered, and collapsed on top of her, he murmured, "My mistress!"

Sookie had never desired death more fervently. His and hers as well. She would not live like this, like a whore employed for his pleasure.

For a moment she gave in to the bond.

Rage! Waves and waves of berserker rage slammed into her. Perhaps he thought that she had complied. Her emotions had been so mixed! Now he would feel her despair, shame and infinite sadness.

_I'm too broken to heal. What's left of me now, after this…after everything that's happened to me What's left if he doesn't love me? What's left is he thinks that I betrayed him…_

What was left was death. There, in that afterlife at least, she would be judged upon the truth of her actions. Yes, death would separate her from this pain and the massive web of lies and deceit that had become her world.

Just then the air around her seethed and hard hands plucked Felipe off of her and stunned him with a blue flame. Before he could cry out, there was a blue flash and he toppled to the floor soundlessly. Unseen arms wrapped her and lifted her.

Someone pressed firm, warm fingers against her temple and murmured, "Sleep woman."

Sookie allowed herself to drift on a wave into the velvet soft void where her own death beckoned softly.

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As Danni and Eric raced through the warded tunnels, the rogue wave of Sookie's, terror, loathing, and despair erupted across their bond.

He roared as he felt his mate's mental battle and knew her body was submitting to Felipe even as her spirit fought against it.

He shuddered as he recognized the dark, cold longing of a death wish and for the first time ever, heard his beloved's thought, " Please, God, make it so…"

Danni still held fast to his wrist. Their bodies were a blur as they sped through the dim tunnels deep below the earth and slightly removed in time and space from the world of men.

It was a world that Felipe didn't recognize, an absurd upside down world, imagined by unenlightened barbarians.

De Castro did not understand the deep magics because they had been forgotten in the time when he was made Vampire. The old ones would never divulge their secrets! As with all magics, what De Castro's mind perceived, his body believed.

He could not conceive of this otherness and that would be his downfall.

Danni paused before a shimmering portal, her chest heaving slightly.

"We're going to "poof" again. Then we'll be at the meeting place."

She held a finger up in warning, and her eyes flashed with a dangerous light, "We'll still be in Otherworld, in Svartálfaheimr. Old Ones to whom this land is sacred will be present, so mind you manners vampire!"

Eric smiled grimly and fingered the scabbard of the wicked steel long knife on his hip.

"Oh, I will mind my manners! I was brought up to see and reverence what is truly sacred. But he will _not_ know! Their wrath against him and his minions will be a terrible and wondrous thing. And when they have meted out their justice, I will crush him and send his soul to hell."


	3. Chapter 3

Revised Thou Shalt Not Chapter 3

**A/N: **Lots of supernatural interaction with beings from the southwest where De Castro abides!I have attempted to handle sacred beliefs with respect and with as much accuracy as the story allows. Dinetah is the ancestral homeland of the Diné, the Navajo people. The Navajo word for sand paintings means "place where the gods come and go." "Hosteen" is a Navajo honorific, applied here to a hataalii, a singer and medicine man. Hosteen Klah was a real medicine man murdered in the Canyon de Muerto in 1805 by Spanish soldiers along with over 100 others. Jagoa are Fae-like beings and Nightwalkers are vamps. Chindees are evil spirits that remain while what is good in a person passes on. I intend nothing but respect by using the Hosteen's name. Yei might be translated as gods/goddesses. Wyrd, as you know if you read my stuff, is fate. As always CH's SVM characters are hers and hers alone. Heartfelt thanks to Konfetti, Yei of wit and creativity, who is kind enough to Beta TSN for me. Thanks to all of you who walk the Beautyway and review!

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Eric and Danni entered the vast incandescent chamber whose roof glistened with crystallized stalactites reflected in a mirror calm lake. They knelt reverently, pressed earthward by enormous waves of energy emanating from the great Yei, Tawa, god of light, victory, and justice. Eric's gods dwelt in the realm of Asgaard, but they shared their world with other deities. The gods of the Anasazi, Pueblos and Navajo dwelt in the realm known as Shiplo. He smiled inwardly, marveling at the great twist of wyrd that had linked his vengeance to the vengeance of these beings. De Castro was so unaware of the greater realities, so sure of his invincibility within his sphere of influence, and so immune to any sense of his own wrongdoing, that he would blindly charge into an ambush that was beyond his comprehension. The Yei spoke, his voice deep and rich with the resonance of thunder.

"Nightwalker, I perceive your warrior's soul. It is not untainted, but it is still strong and whole; an admirable accomplishment for all of your years. Your woman will be here soon. Her spirit is wounded and must receive healing that you cannot yet give her."

Eric eyes blazed and his lips grimaced as his fangs extended in full battle display.

"It is well that our desires for vengeance converge Great One. I request the privilege of the killing stroke for his violation of my mate and of my honor!"

Tawa's golden-brown eyes regarded the ancient Nightwalker with approval.

"That privilege is yours. Do you know that your woman has been your salvation? Your actions on her behalf have purged your soul of much darkness. Now she, herself, teeters on the brink. If she survives and heals, a great destiny awaits."

Eric had thought of little but Sookie during their trip through the tunnels and caverns. He hauled himself back from berserker rage, saving it for the moment when he confronted De Castro. He had felt her shame and despair and knew that De Castro had damaged his mate more deeply than the Fae torturers. He prayed to Odin, the All Father of the Aesir, and to Freya, the goddess of battle, to send the rage when the time came, and not before, lest he lose his focus.

Tawa smiled, "They hear your prayers Viking and they approve and consent! Even now the Jagoa come."

Eric felt the warm rush of his woman's life force before the Dark Elves materialized. A male handed her to him wordlessly, bowed to the Yei and retreated with Danni to the edge of the silent lake. Sookie's golden hair spilled over her beautiful face as she lay limp in his arms. Even unconscious and abused, she was magnificent! His guts twisted. For the second time since their pledging he had been unable to save her, and in both instances De Castro's dark intentions had kept him from her.

He held her gently to him, and nodded to the Yei.

"With your leave?"

Tawa nodded and Eric turned his back to the God, laid Sookie gently upon the smooth sandy floor, and unwrapped the sheet to examine her. His nostrils flared as the stench of De Castro's scent assaulted him. The bastard had made sure that every inch of her was covered with it! His mouth compressed into a gash as he contemplated the blue-black bruises upon her wrists and inner thighs. This was De Castro's punishment upon him for his challenge to his will, and it was both clever and terrible. He was the king of three states because he understood how to wound and control those under him so precisely.

If Eric hadn't thought ahead, if he hadn't been able to call upon the vast resources he had compiled over the centuries, both he had Sookie would have had to submit to the King's little arrangement or die. He had no doubt that Felipe would have claimed Sookie as his mistress and called upon her "services" often to keep his Sheriff in check. The humiliation would have been unbearable, but they would have had to bear it, if De Castro forced Eric to "allow" De Castro's possession of his mate.

A low, deep, growl rumbled ominously as his fingers traced the puncture marks where his enemy has drawn blood from the soft flesh of his mate's inner thigh. By the laws of their own kind, De Castro merited final death for simply touching her without permission, but it would have been nearly impossible to prove. Luckily, this case would never be judged in a Vampire tribunal. De Castro's judges already had all of the evidence before them, and their verdict was assured.

Sookie moaned and reached out across their bond. Her blue eyes snapped open. Instead of meeting his, they locked onto his thigh. With nearly preternatural speed, her hand darted forward, unsheathed the knife, and plunged it toward her chest.

If Eric's reactions had not been blindingly fast, she would have achieved her goal and the sand would be drenched with her blood. Even so, she fought with amazing strength against his gentle but firm grasp as he removed the blade and nodded to Danni to hold it out of harm's way.

He gathered Sookie into him and kissed her hands, unable to contain his own agitation.

"No, no Dear One! Never! He is unworthy of your death! It would be a great victory for him, for with it he would crush us both. I swear to you he will not survive this night! May the gods be my witness, I will strike him down and watch the demons of his god escort his soul to a hell far harsher than any he can imagine!"

Sookie regarded him, her eyes as wild as a trapped animal's. Her mind had retreated to a distant place where it huddled, like the Diné in Canyon de Muerto, hoping for safety, hoping that the evil that pursued would not discover her hiding place.

Eric felt a massive drain in the energy around him. The god had departed. Danni caught his eye.

"She must sleep now. Waking is the nightmare for her. The Yei, Tawa. had arranged a healing for her. We go to a sacred hogan on the canyon floor closest to the spire where the great Yei, Spider Woman, rests. It's best if we take her."

Eric shook his head and gathered his mate against him more securely.

Danni smiled warmly. The vampire was a good mate, but he could do the woman no good until after the ceremony.

Her voice was gentle. "Eric, the night air is cold and your mate is already in shock. We can have her there in seconds. You can follow and be there for the ceremony. She will need you when it is done. I _must_ touch her so that she can rest. It will be a deep, gentle sleep. I swear by the gods we serve that I will do your mate no harm!"

Eric nodded reluctantly. The she elf had been trustworthy thus far. "You may touch her."

Danni touched Sookie's temple gently, murmured "Sleep and peace to you."

Sookie's eyes closed, her body relaxed in Eric's arms, and her breathing became deep and regular.

Danni made a quick circular gesture and a male Dark Elf appeared.

"Vani is swiftest. Let him take her."

Eric handed his mate over slowly and locked eyes with the elf.

"If she encounters further harm because of you, I'll kill you."

The elf nodded. He would do the same if it was his mate.

"Naturally."

And they vanished.

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Hosteen Klah regarded the sheer red sandstone cliffs that form a maze of canyons that converge into Canyon de Chelly and Canyon Del Muerto. Over 600 feet above the canyon's floor, the crumbling walls of the Old One's ruins looked out from the deep shadows of scalloped alcoves. He walked reverently, guided by his awareness of The Beautyway.

This was the spiritual heart of Dinetah, the parallel universe of the Navajo people, bounded by four sacred mountains and four sacred rivers. Power hummed through the sagebrush steppe spotted with juniper and ancient, gnarled pinion trees occasionally gashed by yawning canyons and craggy pine clad mountain ranges. It was a magical world of magenta mesas, blood-red cliffs, and tiaras of stress-fractured, tan sandstone where the imprint of Hummingbird's huge wings scored stuttering, parenthetical gashes into the canyon walls.

The setting sun burnished the shimmering sandstone. He would spend tonight in his hogan so that he might accomplish the tasks set before him. He would not ascend to the Old One's ruins where evil chindees and skinwalkers might still dwell, but en route he had made a special trip to one sandstone mural, the masterpiece of an unknown ancestor, portraying a cavalcade of Spanish soldiers in cloaks and flat brimmed hats, with muskets held aloft.

They had been sent to take care of "the Navajo problem" by murdering over one hundred men, women and children of the Diné while they huddled in a cave. His ancestors' chindees would not rest until a blood debt was paid. With his aid, it would be paid tonight, when one who shared the murderer's blood atoned for the centuries' old evil, for his recent defilement of a sacred site, and for defilement the Yei who called himself Tawa had yet to reveal.

He made his way across a creek bed when a trickle of water still flowed, and entered the secluded hogan he maintained for sacred purposes. He stooped and passed through the door that faced the rising sun. Placing pots containing the colored sands and his bags of pollen and corn meal in front of him, he cleared his mind before beginning the sacred painting which would call the powerful Yei, Tawa. His vision had been very strong and specific and his inner peace led him to trust its verity. Calling upon a Yei without need could be dangerous, even fatal. He would never, for any reason produce an image of such power outside of a ceremony.

Trailing black, blue, white, and yellow sand between his fingers, he carefully designed an image symbolizing the four directions and the four sacred mountains with the image of Tawa, the Yei associated with the sun, justice, and victory, traced in blue, white and yellow, in its center.

In his vision, the Yei had informed him that he would perform an Enemyway to purge a soul and restore it to harmony, health, and balance. He worked reverently and meticulously until the sand painting became the "place where the gods come and go," then he sprinkled the sacred pollen to the four directions and waited.

Ravens' cries echoed off of the cliffs as the great Yei Tawa entered and spoke from its image.

"You have done well Hosteen. My first blessing for you is a straight path. You will always walk the Beautyway. You are wise and live with many realities, not just the ones of this material plane! The Yei and those whom the Yei aid will not forget their debt to you. The Jagoa will come soon with a woman who has been forced and defiled by the Nightwalker who has transgressed. Her mate will accompany them. The woman is white, but has Jagoa blood and is under the Yeis' protection."

Hosteen Klah shook his head, regarding the god through clear, wise eyes, "Evil such as this is not just in the other worlds. It's out there all the time; it's in my face."

He shook his head in bemusement, "And a few whites are just beginning to understand this again after thousands of years! The woman's wound will be hard to heal. I can start the process with the healing ceremony, but the woman must will herself toward health, balance, and harmony. When she rejects the way of despair, the evil will revert to the evil doer."

Tawa nodded. "She has already survived torture by enemy Jagoa and the slaughter of loved ones as well as the rape. This one is very strong, but she is damaged. She will not heal emotionally or spiritually without this ceremony. I have seen this. Her Jagoa kin have sealed the portals to their world, but the Great Ones of her husband's people demand retribution and other Jagoa of another world are indebted to her mate. When the creature is lured into the canyon, your chants must seal him in so that his other transgressions can be brought to justice. There is the matter of the creature's destruction of sacred land upon which he built a resort despite our warnings. And, of course, there is the matter of the blood debt! The Nightwalker, De Castro, shares the blood of his brother's progeny, the two who led the massacre."

Hosteen Klah smiled grimly, "Yes. He has outlasted them all! It is fitting that he who has taken the blood of others and whose greed has caused such defilement will be accountable. The blood debt is his; Nightwalkers, like Skinwalkers, can be destroyed in this world to receive further punishment in another!"

The god rose out of the image and stood before him in the guise of a warrior. To the Algonquians he was a Manitou, to the Pueblo and the departed Old Ones, a Kachina, and for the Diné he was a Yei—but for all he remained the god of light, justice, and victory. He bent and pinched the cornmeal and pollen between his fingers, and sprinkled it around the hogan's perimeters.

"I have hallowed this place and no evil can enter. The Jagoa and the woman's mate are coming now. Await my signal. The canyon must be warded tonight."

Tawa shimmered and winked into another world.

A sudden gust of wind announced the Jagoa's arrival. If Tawa himself had not informed him of his intent, Hosteen Klah would have forbidden them entrance. These were creatures of the twilight, neither good nor evil, and therefore not to be trusted without assurances.

The envoy knew the expected formalities and spoke in the Navajo tongue, "We come as directed by the great Yei, Tawa, and by the gods of this woman's mate! Her own kin, the high Prince of Alfheim, has locked himself and his people within his realm."

The Jagoa sneered displaying sharp, white teeth, his green eyes luminous as a cat's, "He will not emerge to aid his own blood, and so the duty has fallen to us."

The medicine man's head swiveled a fraction to fix upon the darkness next to the Jagoa where he detected the powerful and unmistakable register of an ancient Nightwalker.

He regarded the creature carefully. Its aura was not evil, and it touched the woman with tenderness before demanding that the Jagoa hand her to him. Ah! This was the mate. Tawa was wise to refrain from telling him. Such knowledge can unnerve even a powerful hataalii and he had needed absolute focus to complete the sand painting properly.

Hosteen Klah's weathered face remained impassive.

"You, Nightwalker, may enter with your woman. Place her upon the sand painting and do not disturb the circle! Jagoa, you may stand upon the perimeter of the circle and guard against any disturbance."

Eric carried Sookie who was still wrapped in the loathsome, soiled sheet. Hosteen Klah examined her carefully. Her aura was weak. It was still filled with pure light, but was also flecked here and there with red and a dark slash rent its length.

Hosteen Klah turned his back to the woman.

"Remove the sheet from your mate and have the Jagoa destroy it immediately or it will draw skinwalkers and chindees! "

He nodded at the Dark Elf named Vani, "I sense more power in you. Cover her properly, as your skill allows."

The Jagoa nodded, grinned, and snapped his fingers.

"As you wish."

Sookie was now dressed in the traditional skirt, blouse, shawl, and shoes of a Navajo woman, complete with silver and turquoise jewelry. Her hair was coiffed in the elaborate squash blossom arrangement of a Hopi woman.

Eric's lips twitched with sudden amusement. The Hosteen refrained from rolling his eyes. Jagoa were all the same and too closely related to the Trickster to suite him!

The Jagoa snickered, "Thought you'd appreciate local fashion for the ceremony!"

The hataalii nodded curtly, "It restores her dignity, which is all that matters. Now, stand back while I wake her just enough so that her mind and spirit registers the ceremony. What is her true name?"

The Jagoa shrugged, "Her kin are sky people so it's a sky name, but they'd never reveal her name to _us_!"

Eric caressed Sookie's cheek, "In the human world she is called Sookie."

Hosteen Klah knelt by Sookie and placed his hands upon either side of her face as she lay upon the sand painting.

"Sookie! Wake within the safety of the circle, upon the sand blessed by the Yei! Here your mind and soul will find healing and balance. Here you can release the darkness within you and cast it from you. Do you hear and understand?"

Sookie eyes fluttered open. She gazed into the hataalii's warm brown eyes, and her spirit responded to the deep, calming magic that encircled her like an embrace.

He spoke to Eric and the Dark Elf while facing the girl. "I'm going to begin the Enemyway now. You may stand on the edges of the sacred circle and respond when the chant calls for it."

He lit small cedar twigs and brushed the smoke over Sookie with an eagle's feather, then stopped and held her hand.

"Sookie, you need to listen closely to my story for in it lies your healing. There was a time when the rains stopped. The four legged, the two legged and all vegetation withered until only four plants survived, cedar plant, tobacco plant, yucca plant and sage plant. The only bird that survived was Eagle. From that day on Mother Earth and Father Sky told these survivors, 'because of your ability to survive, because of your courage, your stamina, and your resilience you are going to be in the ceremonies of all the Indian people across all Indian land.' This is why today we use tobacco, cedar, yucca, sage and the eagle's feather."

"You breathe that in, Sookie, and say to yourself, 'I'm going to be a survivor. I have resilience, I have courage, and I have stamina. My enemy has no power over me.' "

"I am brushing the sacred cedar smoke with the eagle feather connecting this word and all others with his strength, stamina, and courage. Take the blessings as I sing. Take the energy. Take that spirit, and you will heal and be whole again."

Hosteen Klah began the rhythmic chant of the Enemyway.

The power emanating from his healing magic rumbled through ancient ley lines and across the pitch dark canyon to touch the sandstone spire, known as Spider Rock, that rose 800 feet above the canyon floor where the great Yei ,Spider Woman, slept.

The Yei's spirit, stirred, awoke, felt the approach of her enemy, and waited patiently as he walked into the trap she and her people had spun for him.

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Blessing upon those who review: ) PS There are some wonderful videos of Canyon De Chelly on YouTube if you want to check it out.


	4. Chapter 4

Thou Shalt Not

Chapter 4

**A/N:** _Apologies for the gap in updates! TSN takes a lot of logistical plotting! Many, many thanks to Konfettii, my second and better brain, whose cogent comments and enthusiasm allow me to piece together TSN's byzantine plot! This chapter deals with all of the other players. Oh , just a reminder that a dark elf is impersonating Eric! Hope you enjoy._

_PS I'm really excited about finally writing Stan, the King of Texas, because he will play a big role in Chosen, the third part of the Northman Dynasty saga. _

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In his office on the top floor of the Delta Royal Hotel, Victor Madden chuckled when he read the Yahoo news blurb that popped up next to his inbox:

**Sharks Hunt Victims Like Serial Killers-**Washington-Great White sharks have some things in common with human serial killers, a new study says: They don't attack at random, but stalk specific victims, lurking out of sight.

As he read on and contemplated his king's current predicament, he perceived a kinship between the habits of vampires and Great White sharks. For a century, Victor had hung back and observed De

Castro, from a not-too-close, not-too-far base. Right now, that base was New Orleans. Like the sharks, Victor had hunted strategically, and had learned from the previous attacks of fools how to

remain completely off of Felipe's radar. He had stayed focused, had been affable, efficient and ruthless for his king. He learned from his many previous kills how to become an efficient killer.

Victor smiled inwardly. Felipe considered himself to be the king of the Great Whites. He had stalked his beautiful prey carefully this week, close enough to see her but not close enough to scare her

off. He'd attack when the lights were low. He liked his victims young and alone. And like the Great White, Felipe would attack when no other sharks were around to compete. De Castro thought that

he had outsmarted Eric Northman by scheduling the business conferences simultaneously, and compelling Eric's pledged and bonded mate to attend him in Las Vegas, while Eric was ordered to the

conference in New Orleans. To all appearances, Eric had complied exactly with his king's commands. As always, Victor's spies had followed him. With the exception of Northman's quick dodge into an

alley from which he emerged a few minutes later looking flushed, they had nothing unusual to report. They'd seen the whore emerge soon after ; so Eric hadn't been able to resist a little nosh from

someone other than his superb mate.

He'd returned to the hotel as usual, checked the front desk for messages, and gone straight to his room. His appearance, habits, even his scent, confirmed that the individual in question was

definitely Eric Northman. To all appearances Northman had done nothing untoward, and if Victor suspected otherwise, well, he knew when to hold his cards close to his chest.

The rich tones of _Bach's__ Toccata and __Fugue__ in D minor_ resounded from his cell.

Sandy's crisp, no nonsense, New England accent cut through the rich strains like a knife through fudge.

"Victor, thank God I got you! Just checking up on Northman again." Her voice sounded tired.

"Nothing new to report old girl. Just as the last report said, Northman toed the line. I have twenty reliable witnesses to attest to that, as well as video footage of his every move. We also have the

phone conversations; so do you. He returned to the hotel, and went to his room. The rep from Anubis Airlines arrived on time and took him to his flight ensconced in his coffin. He arrived at

Shreveport Regional Airport, and his day man , Bobby Burnham , took care of things from there."

"You have the footage of all of this Sandy." He imbued his tone with a tinge of warmth and concern, "What's afoot?"

"Oh, nothing, just making sure that we have all of the details." Her reply lacked a ring of finality. For a vampire, Sandy was a bad liar.

"We'll let you know if there are any developments. We are, of course, still watching him."

After Sandy had hung up, Victor went to his private cabinet, poured out a glass of Royalty Select, and offered himself a silent toast. Something had slipped, and slipped badly.

He chuckled. Alas for hubris! It was the downfall of Achilles, Napoleon, and Hitler, and it would be the downfall of Felipe De Castro as well.

The takeover had gone well. Felipe had attacked a crippled kingdom with a crippled Queen and, since Sophie Ann had so conveniently disposed of her spouse, Arkansas had been a windfall.

Yet his fortune was the cause of much regional anxiety and clandestine animosity. Nevada, Arkansas and Louisiana were being watched carefully by the kings and queens of the ten bordering

states. Although none were openly hostile, Victor's own intelligence informed him that the monarchs of Texas, Oklahoma, Missouri, and Mississippi had increased troops upon their borders, and had

also increased their own espionage activities. They had most certainly communicated on this issue. If Felipe slipped, they would strike. Victor must move very carefully now. He had not gotten this far

by being rash, and neither had Felipe. But over the past quarter century, as Felipe had amassed his fortune, and expanded his enterprises, he had become imperious and overly self assured. What

he wanted, he eventually took, and damn the negative fallout.

If Victor had been in charge, Eric Northman would have met his final death on the night of the takeover. Eric was ancient, powerful, and clever. After a millennium, he had wed this useful and beautiful

woman. What an immensely astute way to combine business and pleasure! Sookie saved the King, which only added to her alluring cachet. She was beautiful, telepathic, loyal, and intelligent, _and_

brave. Victor had known from the start that Felipe would attempt to maneuver her away from Northman. If he had ascertained this, it only stood to reason that the venerable Viking had also

perceived this and made his plans. The trade conference had concluded successfully without incident. Eric's behavior had been as bland as gruel, and therein laid the rub! Victor's intelligence claimed

that Eric was in Shreveport. He had been sighted with Pam in his club and at his home. His bonded's Southwest Airlines flight was scheduled to land at 10 AM the day after tomorrow. Regardless of

what Felipe had done to her or with her, Victor was sure that Sookie would be sent home as a living example of the king's justice.

By asserting their bond and pledge, Eric had hoped to outmaneuver Felipe. As the king, Felipe anticipated keeping Eric in check by stealing his queen. That, in it itself, would have been a wise

decision. But, in the last half century, Felipe had begun to over reach himself. His punishments had become more cruel and specific. That was his right. But, in the case of Eric and his bonded, he had

sorely underestimated the vast network of connections Eric had built up over many years. Victor had grown up in England during the War of the Roses and, although he was born into a

Christian culture, many of the peasants still celebrated the old beliefs. When, as the lord of the manor, he had taken a willing maiden before the Beltane fires, he had felt that power. Although Felipe

had carefully monitored all of Eric's business and personal connections in the material world, Victor suspected that there were depths to Eric Northman that Felipe De Castro had failed to detect.

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Eric's dark elven Doppelganger , Vani, sat in Fangtasia's office focusing hard on Pam's ass and trying his best not to think about a succulent piece of New York Strip steak, served medium rare , with a

side of garlic mashed potatoes. Vani tried on Eric's pussy eating grin, "Oh come on Pam , we'd have fun! I've got some first class equipment to play with and I don't want to waste it! "

Pam snorted and eyed Vani-Eric, " Sorry big boy; been there, done that, moved on…"

Vani shook his head regretfully, " Hey, no harm in trying…" He looked at her hopefully, " Can I hit on a fangbanger?"

In spite of herself, she chuckled. Vani was a decent sort, for a Dark Elf, and he was helping to save all of their asses.

" Not while you're in that body! You are the newly pledged and bonded spouse of a very beautiful, sexy woman, and you are trying to remain faithful…at least for the time being! Right now, what you

have got to do is get out there, sit on your 'throne', and look regal. "

Her Alice blue eyes twinkled with mischief, " But maybe, later on, if you behave yourself, you can lead me out onto the dance floor and we can shake our bon bons for the amusement of the vermin!"

If all went well, Vanni's services would no longer be needed after tomorrow night. If things did not go well, she and Eric's entire retinue would be seeing quite a bit of Vani and his world.

When she had spoken to Eric, they had used a code they'd developed over two centuries. She knew that Felipe had violated Sookie to punish Eric. She also knew that Eric would kill Felipe, but that

he was too old and wily to rush off rashly to his death. Eric always had a plan, several in this case.

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On a one thousand eight hundred acre ranch, 25 miles south of Lockhart, Stan Davis, the king of Texas was digging post holes on the Rocking W Ranch where he bred pedigree Brawl, Rope Burn,

and Blue jacket Longhorns. His powerful arms drove the post hole digger into the hard rocky ground with the force of a hydraulic auger. He had always enjoyed physical labor. It gave him a chance to

work out his frustrations and get something useful done at the same time. Right at the moment, he was furious with Felipe de Castro. Their joint venture involving the delivery of fiber-based IP voice,

video, data and security services to homes and businesses in sister resorts in Texas and Nevada had gone sour. Felipe's lawyers suddenly claimed that they should receive 65 percent of the profits

due to a loophole in the contract. Since the projected revenues were over fifty million dollars, and since the original agreement had been for a fifty-fifty split, Stan was itching for a fight. Stan enjoyed

the role of cowboy. It took him back to ancient times when he was a horseman, a warrior, and the owner of large herds of cattle. He had even assumed a Texas drawl as his American accent.

He didn't trust De Castro, hell, he didn't trust anyone in particular except the few vamps who'd been with him for over a century. De Castro was slipperier and greedier than any monarch currently

ruling in North America. As he rose, De Castro was forgetting to respect his peers, and that made for some very bad business. De Castro was old enough to know the ropes, but he wasn't old

enough to have any sense of what might lie beyond the pattern of existence he accepted.

Stan was one thousand three hundred years old and knew plenty. His Slavic tribe , the Venedi, had remained devoutly Pagan well into the medieval period and by then, he had been made vampire

for two centuries. The official arrival of Christianity just meant that many of the old gods and goddess became saints and their sacred springs became holy wells. He understood and still reverenced

those unseen powers in his own way. When his third in command, a Navajo vamp named Nightwind, had informed him that De Castro had scoffed at a native American shaman's warnings and had

desecrated a sacred site, , he knew that De Castro had incensed Nightwind's Yei. But there was something more to this desecration, something deeper to move the Yei to act. De Castro, who

thought himself a consummate predator, was really like a moth which senses only the scent it follows and is blind to the spider's web stretched across its path—the web connected to a world neither

seen nor acknowledged.

De Castro's reality did include Eric Northman and his telepathic mate. Stanislaus had known Eric fairly well for five hundred years. He had fought with Eric when they had defended the queen of the

Dark Elves. Both Eric and Stan had connections to worlds and supernatural forces that the younger vamps did not acknowledge, and therefore could not perceive.

When the dark elf had approached him on behalf of Eric last month, and had suggested that Stan look into the joint venture with De Castro, he understood that trouble was brewing on many fronts,

and that he now owed Eric Northman a favor. Stan had quietly spoken with some of the other kings and queens with whom De Castro had dealings, and had suggested that they have their lawyers

examine the terms and conditions of any contracts they had made with De Castro very closely. The general conclusion was that De Castro was attempting to subtly screw everyone in as many

ways as he could. This was classic vampire behavior, and might be acceptable with inferiors and even with the occasional peer, but no vampire enjoyed being screwed out of their profits! De Castro

now had many powerful enemies who mistrusted his motives and awaited an opportunity to bring him down and end his dangerous hold upon the region. He was pounding the post into the ground

when Nightwind appeared and nodded. His extraordinary dark eyes blazed with triumph.

"De Castro will enter the Canyon tomorrow night. The Yei await him. I have contacted the surrounding kingdoms as you suggested . Our forces are in position to strike when necessary."

Stan smiled broadly, his fangs in full battle display. "Then, tomorrow night De Castro will learn the wisdom of reverence."

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_Each review keeps Felipe hurtling towards his reckoning! *hugs*  
_


	5. Chapter 5

Thou Shalt Not Chapter 5

**AN:** _It's payback time! I hope that you enjoy the ride: D The main action of this chapter takes place in and around Mummy Cave on the north rim of Canyon De Chelly in the heart of the Navajo reservation in northeastern Arizona. Mummy Cave is an Anasazi Ruin occupied between 300-1300 AD. Built into a sheer sandstone cliff three hundred feet above the canyon floor, it includes over seventy rooms, three ceremonial kivas and a large amphitheater. A kiva is an underground chamber used for ceremonies or councils. __ Typical features include a bench around the perimeter, niches set into the walls, a fire pit, and pits to support large timbers that hold up the roof. The Anasazi believed that they emerged from the underworld through a sipapu, a gateway to the spirit world found inside a kiva. Upon death, a person's spirit must return to the underworld. I've taken the liberty of assuming that, after the Fae war, Felipe De Castro's intelligence discovered that Sookie is Niall Brigant's great-granddaughter. Just a reminder, dark elves are called Jagoa. One more thing, a Seax (that's Seax not sex, though we all know Eric's sex is also wicked and wonderful!) is a traditional Viking knife. Huge thanks to Konfetti and FDM who betaed this chapter for me. *hugs*_

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After the sun's crescendo/ cool air after a long fever/ the protective walls of darkness  
After the phantoms and mirages of too much light and space/  
Suddenly a cacophony of coyotes wailing in torment  
For the moon to rise and rescue them from Hell  
And a huge tarantula hauls herself over her threshold  
In search of love/ in search of a small mate/ who will not survive the violence of her embrace  
("The Teeth of These Mountains" by Richard Shelton)

Felipe De Castro rose with a groan, swayed, and clawed at empty air. For the first time in centuries, the fabric of his existence had been ripped in two. He cursed silently and fought to control the wild frenzy of fury and terror that threatened to overwhelm him. The first thing that he had to do was to regain a veneer of composure. No one must ever suspect that a supernatural enemy was able to infiltrate his sanctum sanctorum, overwhelm him, and steal from him. The sweet, lavender scent of her body was still on him; her intoxicating taste still spread like fire through him. The last delicious, shuddering moments of his savage, fierce carnal vengeance, came to him again and he fought the urge to pound his fist into the wall. He had had her blood and she had had a drop or two of his when he had bitten his own mouth to make her take it. Felipe closed his eyes. If he could feel her, he could track her. She was south east of him, in Arizona and she had stopped moving.

He sought to tease apart the dense tangle of logically intertwining ideas. His expertise in perceiving and correlating the designs of others had, after all, made him a king. Perhaps she was injured and in hiding, or perhaps it was a trap which his enemies had laid for him. Which of his enemies cared about the fate of Sookie Stackhouse so intensely that they would orchestrate an attack and abduction right under his royal nose?

If Niall Brigant had employed dark elves to rescue his great granddaughter, her worth to him as a trophy and as a hostage increased exponentially. If Eric had lifted a finger against his king, he could be proved a traitor and rendered definitely dead. Perhaps they were allies. His personal cell phone resounded with the rich tones of the Baroque guitar piece Espanoletas by Gaspar Sanz. He opened it wordlessly; if it was his second Sandy, she would know that he was there, and if it was anyone else, they should not be calling without prearrangement.

"My lord," Sandy's raw New England accent cut the silence, "I've checked with Victor and with our spies in Shreveport. They all agree that Northman is behaving in an absolutely routine manner…"

And that was the crux of the issue! Eric called his mate every night. They were bonded, and by now he knew that Felipe had sampled the many gifts that Eric's bonded offered. Any vampire male who possessed a woman as magnificent as the part Fae would be enraged and frantic to reclaim her. Eric was too much a warrior and a leader for this bland attendance to duty to be anything but a camouflage.

Felipe schooled his voice to its usual suave composure, "Very well Sandy. Tell the informants to continue to watch, and to be ready to move at a moment's notice should the need arise. Please cancel tomorrow night's conference with the architect. I have decided to inspect the Arizona site I'm considering adjacent to the Navajo reservation. He didn't need to explain his motives to his second. Sandy knew him well enough to know that he had his reasons. We'll take the limos to the usual place when we travel east. And, Sandy? Full body armor and weaponry will be required."

"Yes my lord. I'll have the guard ready. Any further orders?"

That's what Felipe liked about Sandy. She was astute, followed orders to a T, and asked only the necessary questions. Although she was a businesswoman first, she was also a competent and lethal soldier.

He spoke with cool authority, "I expect you to be prepared as I have instructed. No further orders at this time."

His suspicion that Northman was somehow, inexplicably, behind this attack gnawed at his insides.

Of this he was certain, he would have her back and submissive under his permanent protection, or he would make sure that both she and her rebellious mate permanently vanished. He had not become the king of three states through miscalculation.

He must shower and dress first, forbid any access to his room, on the premise that his new and exhausted mistress must not be disturbed, and concoct a credible explanation for his immediate departure tomorrow night. Sandy had a penchant for tracing residual magic, and would be of use on this expedition. Other than his second in command, he would, as usual, be escorted by a squadron of his top vamps, all of whom could fly.

Before he entered his marble and gold plated bath room, Felipe inhaled deeply taking in the scent of his future mistress until he had memorized its very essence. He sucked upon his fingers relishing the taste of her fluids, and felt a brief, vicious satisfaction that soon she would be his again and Northman would be dead.

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When full dark had fallen Hosteen Klah had completed his preparations. The full moon cast its cold, silver light upon the ochre cliffs. In the clear, still air he could see Spider Rock, with the rising moon impaled upon its tip and three hundred feet above him, "The House Under the Rock" that the whites called "Mummy Cave." Just to the east , along the north rim of the canyon, stood "The Place Where Two Fell Off" that was known as "Massacre Cave." Tonight he would call the unquiet spirits of his ancestors to gather, to witness, and to judge in the Ancient One's kiva whose entrance was above him in the place called Mummy Cave.

He seated himself on the west side of the hogan, faced east, breathed in the cool air, and centered himself. In order to ensnare the creature linked to the blood debt, he had constructed nine rings of twigs representing the nine worlds and the nine circles of the creature's hell, in the earth outside of the hogan.

A square made of dressed willows crossed and left projecting at corners, each tied together with white cotton cord, and ornamented with the under tail feather of the eagle, would complete the physical manifestations of the summons and the ward. He knew that, his every manipulation of feathers, meal, sticks, water and sand must be exact in order to summon the Old Ones, and the great Yei, Spider Woman. Every word and action held significance.

He sprinkled corn pollen, laid down hummingbird feathers, lit tobacco, and called upon the Yei.

"People of the mountains and roots. I give you food of corn pollen and hummingbird feathers. I send you tobacco and beg you to give me a good dance. Be with me! Earth, make a good solid ground for me that the Yei who come to see the dance may be pleased. I beg that you summon the Old Ones to the sipapu, the place of emergence, in the Kiva of the Ancient Ones that they may bear witness to our vengeance, and attain peace. I summon the great Yei mother, Spider Woman, foremost of all weavers, to exact this vengeance. Remove the evil that approaches, avenge the blood of your children, and make our people and those that the evil one has violated strong of mind and body."

In the ruins, high above, a deep wedge of shadows spread across the ruined Kiva's circle. The sandstone surfaces around them glowed with a pale corpse light, and sand shifted and hissed without a hint of wind.

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Sookie moaned softly as she struggled to awake from her dream. Her hands fluttered across her breasts, down to her belly and, beyond. A huge snake slid against her and wrapped itself around her, undulating with a rhythm both obscene and erotic. It opened its mouth unhinged its, jaws and thrust into her devouring and inflaming her. She knew that if she did not fight back, her soul would be consumed.

She would wink into nothingness and be no more than an empty shell, a pretty doll without will or spark. She fought as she fell into the darkness, passing through the snake's gullet. She fought and screamed, until she sensed the warmth of another being, a familiar touch, and heard the voice of her beloved calling from a great distance.

She crawled and slipped toward the voice, until she burst through the darkness into the moonlight. She was poised atop the high sandstone tower of Spider Rock in cliff country. High cirrus clouds slipped across the moon. Small green cornfields, cottonwoods, sheep pastures, and a few hogans stretched across the canyon floor below her. Rising up upon either side, the cold moonlight displayed steep walled cliffs. She shivered in the chill desert night. Some strange magic was at work. The landscape throbbed with the deep reverberation of ancient, watchful power.

A ponderous, female figure robed in shadows rose to her right. "Kinswoman of the Jagoa, with the help of the holy man and the Yei, you have passed the test and broken through your fear. The creature that violated you and desecrated our land will be as a fly waking around the rim of my cooking pot. Come now with me, and throw your fear into the abyss with your enemy!"

The figure drifted in front of her, extended her hands, then stood motionless, strangely concealed even in the moonlight. Sookie sensed that some mystic junction point was just ahead of her. She drifted to the figure that embraced her and began to move toward a point on the north rim of the canyon. Sookie relaxed into the powerful embrace and, for the first time, since she had been tortured by Brendan's fae and raped by Felipe, she enjoyed a sense of freedom, security, and direction.

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Eric cradled Sookie against him. The ties that had held her hair in the elaborate squash blossom design had slipped out, and her long golden hair cascaded towards his waist. Since returning to the cavern, she had shown no sign of regaining consciousness. She moaned and her hands rose and fluttered over her body. He seethed with rage and revulsion at the thought of what she had endured at the hands of her supposed protector. There was the Fae torture as well. It was too much. It was a measure of her strength and indomitable spirit that her mind had not broken entirely, but it was close. Using the bond, he called to her as he would call to his vampire child. Nothing. He exerted his will more deeply, called again, and this time felt her response amplified by the overwhelming register of a deity.

Eric trailed his fingers across her cheek, "Come back to me, min älskare. Tonight, I swear to you, you will be free of him forever."

He caressed the stag horn hilt of a wickedly sharp Seax, the length of a short sword. It had been his fighting weapon of choice for had to hand combat for one thousand years, and he understood every nuance of its use.

Sookie's eyes flew open. They shared a smile as intimate as a kiss. She rested against Eric for another moment, enjoying the comfort of his body and the clean, male scent that was uniquely Eric.

Sookie leaned forward, oddly content, as she sensed the vital presence she had encountered. "She's here, one of the Holy People…he won't be able to see her or feel her until she wills it."

A somber pleasure flickered across her eyes. Her comprehension of cosmic realities had increased exponentially, and her enemy no longer seemed so formidable. The deity had shown her that De Castro was engulfed in the blindness which spiritual sterility engenders, and she no longer trembled and retreated into herself at the thought of him.

The dark elf, Danni, approached them with warm fry bread , some ripe peaches and yucca fruit. She squatted next to them handing half the food to Sookie, "This is the best we can do here. But I guarantee that it will taste delicious—a little charm goes a long way when it comes to cooking. You need to eat!" Her wide mouth quirked with humor, "You won't want anything to distract you from the festivities!"

Sookie's eyes widened as a cold presence touched her mind. Unseeing, she starred past her mate and the elf.

"He's here just above us."

Eric kissed Sookie once lightly on the lips.

"Go with Danni, my lover. She will make sure that you witness everything in safety. He will know that you are here, but do not let him see you until his time is at hand. Only then should you come forward."

They would celebrate properly once this was over. This was a night for blades and battle not, lovemaking. Eric's eyes narrowed and hardened. He rose to his feet, his back ramrod straight, looking every inch the warrior chieftain that he was.

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As noiseless as owls, Felipe and his minions descended towards the ancient ruins. High cirrus clouds wove cobwebs across the moon, whose light flickered across the Great Kiva until the floor and walls seemed to writhe and dance. The silence was palpable. Dinétah's night had descended upon them, and they found themselves in an alien world.

Felipe could feel her below him and knew that she felt him as well. He nodded, and ten of his minions separated and whisked through the ruins in pairs. When they returned, they nodded wordlessly. Felipe smiled as they drifted down into the hole where the remnants of an ancient ladder leaned precariously.

_I am coming for you little rabbit. This hole will not hide you for long!_

As soon as their feet hit the floor of the underground cavern, Felipe felt an unfamiliar, sickening drop in his gut. Sandy groaned next to him as a blood sweat broke out upon her brow. For first time since they were made vampire, all of the undead felt horribly sick, and doubled over retching and gagging. A drum began to beat and mocking laughter surrounded them. Too late, they realized that they had passed through a magical ward and were experiencing the effects of their trespass.

A peculiar, lilting voice addressed him, "We see you and we see your fear. We know you for what you are."

A dim light slowly increased. The vampires craned their necks and hissed, their hands curling into defensive claws as they scanned the huge circular chamber for their unseen enemies. A bench stretched around it circumference. Four huge, smoke blackened pillars rose up, vanishing into the darkness. The intense heat and raw rippling light of a massive fire emanated from the depths of the pit.

Like puppets yanked abruptly from the stage, all of his retinue silently vanished into the gloom. Moments later, their headless bodies hit the sand floor with a sickening thud. The heads cascaded about him next. Sandy's face leered up at him. The eyes that missed nothing still reflected the hopeless horror the canary feels for the cat that pounces upon it.

Still, he was a king. He squared his shoulders, vanquished the silent scream scrabbling up his throat, and withdrew the Jineta sword made of the finest Toledo steel.

A female voice, as rich as honey, resonated throughout the chamber, "Nightwalker, you have come to the kiva of the Old Ones, into the abode of the Yei. But you are unworthy. We will strip the scales from your eyes, that you may look clearly and face the fate that your arrogance and blood debt have earned you."

Felipe's beautiful full lips curled into a sneer. His voice was cold and exact, "I am not answerable to your authority! _You_ are answerable for the outrage committed against my retinue! Release me immediately!"

A drum began to beat and the room was filled with a whispered chant. Felipe suddenly perceived the beautiful woman he had raped, her chin high and her eyes blazing with fury, surrounded by the shadowy forms of men, women, and children whose eyes glowed crimson in the light of the fire pit. The sandy floor of the kiva shifted and flowed towards Felipe, swirling around him, caressing him, tasting him.

Sensuous female laughter bubbled around him, as the sand whirled and shifted into the form of the great Yei, Spider Woman. Eight opaque, obsidian eyes stretched in two rows across her heart shaped face. A pink tongue darted out and moistened her rosy mouth, before she opened her jaws to display long crystalline fangs dripping with venom.

From the waist down, her beautiful bronze body was that of a centerfold, and her long, black hair fell to her hips. Above the waist the horror began. Upon her upper torso, nestled upon either side of her magnificent breasts, were the eight legs of a Tarantula. There was a trace of laughter in her voice.

"Here I am my lover, do you wish to be my mate? Shall we dance together?" She reached out with her tarantula arms. Felipe displayed fang and slashed with his sword.

Spider Woman hissed. ""You dare to speak of outrages in this holy place. What are you?"

Felipe drew himself up. "I am a king and I am Vampire! Show yourselves, cowards!"

The room resounded with mocking laughter. Like Aladdin's genie, the god Tewa appeared beside Spider Woman.

His deep, voice boomed, "Why should you be permitted into the upper world as though you knew right from wrong? You are a little dog hiding behind his bark! You are a thief, a liar a, cheat, and a killer. Unlike the wolf which takes only what it needs, you are wanton. You disregarded our power when you desecrated our sacred sites, the blood debt of your kinsmen, who butchered innocent men, women and children of the Dine is upon your head. For centuries you have slaughtered needlessly out of greed, and out of greed you have raped the wife of your retainer, while she was a guest in your abode. In your Christian cosmos, there is a very specific debt for that offense!"

Spider Woman leered at De Castro, "There are many here who demand reparation! Let the first come forward."

Eric stepped forward out of the shadows gripping a long, lethal, knife, and stood beside his mate. His eyes, hooded like those of a hawk, could not hide his raw hatred and white hot fury.

A desperate, hypocritical, prayer surfaced in Felipe's brain. But who would he to pray to? He seethed with anger and humiliation as he adopted a battle stance. He was Vampire, and he was more powerful and adept than his retainers. Northman might be old, but he lacked the particular training Felipe had with the sword. He would kill Northman and every other creature in this cavern, including the Northman's mate.

Eric was focused. He had a thousand years of experience as a fighter. He knew that battle was about survival and that Felipe prided himself upon his technique. Yet, surviving went deeper than technique. The fighters, who didn't know the difference going in, died. They didn't have "it." Some called "it" battle fury. Regardless of the name, "it" was the choice he had made on a dark, deep level of his being. He would to do whatever he needed to in order to survive; nothing else mattered. "It" had taken over, and his whole being was focused upon his kill.

The kiva became deadly silent as the two fighters circled each other, maneuvering around the disintegrating, headless bodies and decapitated heads. Suddenly, two chalk white bodies hurtled towards each other in a blur. Felipe swung his blade around in a high, hard arc. Eric parried and struck out with his Seax, but Felipe danced away. Their blades were a blur of silver resounding in the silence. Sookie gasped. Eric's chest glistened darkly with running blood where Felipe's blade had sliced below his collar bone. Eric had the advantage of height and strength, but Filipe was agile and was considered the greatest swordsman of his time. They grunted and strained. For a frozen instant their contorted faces were only inches apart.

Then, Eric slammed his elbow into Felipe face, breaking his nose. Ignoring the blood and pain, Felipe lunged at Eric who ducked, gave a great cry and plunged his Viking blade into Felipe's thigh. Felipe hissed and his eyes popped wide. There was a mortal thud as his blade bit through the bone and Felipe toppled onto the blood drenched sand. Even so he held his hand in a claw position and raked Eric's side with preternatural strength. Eric bellowed and brought his sword down again, severing Felipe's leg. Eric raised his blade for the killing stroke; Tewa reached out and held his straining arm."

"Not yet, Nightwalker. This one is still answerable to others. Go and stand by your woman. I promised you the killing stroke, and you will have it."

Eric looked down upon the pain-wracked form of his former king. He nodded at the sodden pulp of mashed bone and flesh where his knee had been.

"How does it feel to be a cripple? That leg is my vengeance for Sophie Ann, my true queen, whom you mocked."

He inclined his head to Tewa, "I will avenge my woman when the gods permit. But I will avenge her!"

Felipe's scalp crawled with sweat as Spider Woman advanced, surrounded by a host of spirits. Despite his vampiric ability to heal and confront injuries, the screaming pain would not subside. An orgasmic shivering consumed him as Spider Woman reached out with her long tarantula leg and trailed it across his chest, then lashed out with another claw and slashed open his shoulder. Her fangs extended as she lowered herself to drink from the wound. When she had finished, she rolled him onto her long, hairy arms and suspended him over the fiery pit. As he surveyed the host of beings about him, a final, icy comprehension spread through his groping mind. Dimly, within himself, he could hear the voice of his eternal soul.

"You descended through the portal, little mate. I condemn you to the lower world where you belong. You were baptized a Christian and, although you turned from your god's teachings with apathy, you never truly renounced him. Your soul still bears his mark, and he claims you as his."

Felipe felt his body convulse and change. He became old and withered. Tewa looked down upon him with a perfectly passionless face, "Here lies Sipapu, the gateway to and from the Underworld. There too, lies your Christian hell with its nine circles. You have a resident's claim to many places within those circles, but your god's servants indicate that you will lodge in the third ring of the ninth circle."

Sookie stepped forward with Eric at her side.

"You were a traitor to this woman who was your guest. Traitors to their guests will spend eternity lying upon their backs in a frozen lake; their own tears will form a frozen block across their eyes."

To his horror Felipe could recall the voice of the old priest, his tutor, reciting the inscription upon the gates of the Inferno, "Lasciate ogne speranza voi ch'intrate,"

_Abandon all hope you who enter here_.

He perceived all of the victims he had taken wantonly. He perceived the dark abomination that was his soul, and, recalling the teachings of his youth, he wailed in terror.

Eric stepped forward and raised his blade for the killing stroke. He gazed intently into Felipe's rheumy eyes, and his voice rang through the kiva.

"Tonight it is your turn to die struggling and wild-eyed at my hands, no longer a hunter and a king, but merely a sacrifice."

Sookie watched her husband prepare to execute the man who had raped her. She could not help but feel a sense of satisfaction and closure as Eric's blade sliced down, and Felipe's headless corpse and shriveled head fell into the endless depths of the abyss.

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**_Whew! That was hard work killing Felipe off! But we killed him good and proper. _**

**_Make me feel victorious and review : D _**


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